A/N: Thanks so very much to the wonderful Mingsmommy for allowing me to write a companion to her story and for doing the beta! She is amazing and I love her.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

The Vegas sun beat mercilessly down on the green canopy, turning the area underneath into an oven. Tears mingled with sweat as the echo of the final shots faded away and the trumpet began to play Taps, the mournful notes hanging on the still air, blocking out the sounds of the surrounding city. The sickly sweet smell of carnations and roses lay heavy on the stagnant air. The area around the grave was crowded with hundreds of police officers in full dress uniforms, a sea of olive green surrounding the tents. And further out, casino owners and pit bosses dotted the fringes.

On the first row of chairs sat Warrick's aunts, uncles and cousins; a small group by some standards, but the family he had been born with none the less. Directly behind them were his true family, the CSIs and lab techs he had worked with. And standing behind them were the pallbearers; Grissom and Nick and Brass and Greg, along with two men who had grown up next door to Warrick, all standing proudly while tears streaked their cheeks. The dignity of the ceremony allowed each of them to grieve, in their own way, for the man they had known and what he had meant to them.

As the last prayer was spoken, quiet sobs filled the tent. Slowly, the pastor made his way down the row of family members, clasping each hand and murmuring condolences. On the edges of the crowd, the mourners began to wander away, trekking across the lush grass, dodging headstones. Hushed conversations, punctuated by nervous laughter, drifted through the heat of the day. Now that the funeral was over they were all in a hurry to get back to their cars and their lives, anxious to get on with the business of living.

Sara and Grissom lingered for a while, talking with Warrick's family. Now they meandered across the grass, holding hands, following the last of the stragglers toward the vehicles. Looking back one last time, Sara spotted Nick sitting on a bench overlooking the gravesite. His back was to them and his elbows were on his knees, hands clasped. He was staring out across the cemetery.

"Gil," she tugged on his arm and jerked a thumb over her shoulder, "I'm gonna go check on Nick."

Looking back, he turned. "I can do it. You go on to the car."

"No. I'll go. You start the car. Cool it off for me." Sara placed a quick kiss on his cheek and began walking away. Turning back to find him standing there, she called, "Go ahead. We won't be long."

Sara approached the bench, noting the quiet sobs that were shaking Nick's body. Smoothing her skirt, she sat on the concrete bench and winced as the heat from the sun baked rock permeated her thin dress. "It was a nice service, huh?"

With a shake of her head, she wondered at the inanities people threw out in times of trouble. "Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say."

Nick turned his head and a grin flickered across his lips. "It was nice. Ecklie and McKeen said some really nice things." He kicked at a stray stone with his highly polished shoe. "Too bad they couldn't support him like that before."

Sara shrugged. "I know."

Together they stared off into the distance, their eyes noting but not really seeing the military straight palm trees, the rows of headstones and the smudge of mountains on the horizon. Closer still, the maintenance crew had begun removing the tents and chairs, preparing to actually bury a man who had been vibrant and alive less than a week earlier. The moment was surreal and both of them silently acknowledged it.

"I tried to get him to go have a beer with me." Nick's voice was low and gravelly, tears making his words strained. "But he wanted to go home and get a shower."

"This is not your fault, Nick." Sara turned her head and stared at his profile. "You can't possibly believe that it is."

"Nah, I know it's not. But it sure feels like it sometimes." His head dropped forward and he seemed to slump under an invisible weight. "I couldn't save him, Sara. I tried but I just couldn't bring him back."

"Nick, you did the best you could. They can't all be like Cassie." She reached over and wrapped her hand around his. "Sometimes it really is your day."

Scrubbing at the tears on his cheeks, Nick nodded. "I know. I just didn't know it would be this hard." He swallowed convulsively. "Nothing feels right, you know? Like the whole world tilted."

"Yeah. I do know." Sara felt her own tears spill over her lashes and trickle along her cheeks. "It's never easy, to lose somebody you love. But you have to let it go or it will consume you."

Another minute or so of silence passed, the two of them watching was the casket was slowly lowered into the ground.

"The girl that found him?" Sara tore her eyes away from the scene before her.

"Amy?" Nick's eyes slid closed, blocking out the sight of the coffin slipping into the earth. "She was a wreck."

"Where is she? Back on the street?"

"Nope. Might be Warrick's final good deed but she called her parents from the station." Nick smiled. "Said something told her to go home and she was tired of running."

Sara returned his smile. "Gives you hope that it's not all for nothing. You know?"

"Yeah. Like, maybe, this isn't all there is." Nick was quiet for a moment before averting his eyes. "Do you believe in…life after death?"

Startled at the odd leap, Sara thought for a moment. "Yeah. I guess I do."

Nick merely nodded, his eyes once again trained on the rows of palm trees that led off into the distance. They sat for a while in silence, each of them remembering the man who had brought them to this place on this day.

Finally, Nick spoke. "I could feel him." He looked at her, searching for any disbelief in her expression. Finding none, he turned back to face forward. "When I was doing CPR, I could feel him all around me. Like he was right there, hugging me."

He chin quivered slightly as he fought a fresh wave of sobs. "It was like being wrapped in a blanket. I could feel his love for me, for all of us." Nick turned to look at her. "I don't really know how to explain it."

"Maybe he was." She shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Maybe he wanted to tell you goodbye. Or to tell you it was okay to let him go, to stop."

"You really believe that or are you just messing with me, Sidle?"

She looked at him, holding his gaze with her own. "I felt him, too." When he raised an eyebrow, she nodded. "Seriously. Right before the phone rang I woke up and I thought somebody was there. In the room with me."

"I could feel it and it was somebody familiar. When Gil called I knew. I knew he was dead before I ever said hello." Her voice broke on the last word and for a moment her body was wracked with sobs.

Suddenly, it was Nick comforting her; and for a while the clung to one another, crying until they were spent. The noise of the backhoe rumbling to life reminded them of how long they had been sitting there.

Sara pulled back and gave Nick a shaky smile. "We should go. Gil's waiting."

Nick looked over his shoulder and noticed that the only car left was Grissom's. "Looks like I need a ride."

"Yeah." She stood and held out a hand to him.

As they began to walk to the car, Nick took one last look back. "We'll catch the son of a bitch who did this, Warrick. I promise."

Sara squeezed his arm and said, "Yeah, we will."